


His Coffee Mug and Gun

by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Post-His Last Vow, Post-Season/Series 03, Reunion, Starting Over, stillbirth mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 20:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1198518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_careful_what_you_wish_for/pseuds/221b_careful_what_you_wish_for
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reunion ficlet  - John has left Mary for good and arrives at Baker Street needing a place to stay.</p><p>(A self-challenge to write a 500-word or less ficlet in under 60 minutes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Coffee Mug and Gun

John had turned up at the door that night unannounced. His face told Sherlock all he needed to know: John had left Mary for the final time. It didn’t take a genius to reach this deduction. For the past year they had been disintegrating as a couple, wrenchingly so, following the stillbirth of the baby.

Sherlock let John in without a word.

“So… yeah,” John stood in the middle of the room, seemingly lost. “I just wondered if I could maybe… stay here tonight.” A backpack was slung over his shoulder, his stooped posture revealing his exhaustion. John’s hair had more silver in it than Sherlock remembered. He looked older. 

“Of course.”

John set the pack on the coffee table, then took a seat in his old chair.

“It’s over,” he said, not meeting Sherlock’s eyes. “For real this time.”

Sherlock nodded solemnly, knowing there was nothing else he could add that would help. “Drink?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

Sherlock poured out two glasses of whiskey, handed one to John, took a seat across from him. Neither one of them was very good at talking about these sorts of things. He’d wait for John to say more if he wanted to.

“I’m moving out,” John eventually said. "Mary and I will work out the details later. I thought about going to Harry’s….”

“Nonsense. You’ll stay here as long as you like,” Sherlock said with finality. “Mrs. Hudson still keeps your old room immaculate.”

John smiled, then his face fell, crumpled, overwhelmed. He lowered his head and pressed his hand to his mouth, breathing deeply. “Sorry,” he rasped. He shook his head, unable to speak.

Sherlock leaned forward, almost put his hand out to touch John’s shoulder, but held back. “John,” he started, but couldn’t find the right words to say. 

John let out a ragged breath, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said, then straightened his back and downed his drink. “I think I’ll just go up. I’m so tired.”

Sherlock watched John pass by like a ghost. 

****

Sherlock woke the next morning to the familiar sounds of John moving around in the kitchen. He lay there for a moment, thinking about days long gone. So much had changed. Well, history could be remembered, but not altered. He pulled on his dressing gown and went to the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Sherlock said.

John looked up, gave him a small smile. He was taking several items out of his backpack. “Good morning. Kettle’s on.”

Sherlock watched as John placed his faded Royal Army Medical Corps coffee mug, battered laptop, and gun on the table. 

Sherlock’s heart tightened in his chest. 

John was home.

**Author's Note:**

> For more, you may wish to continue on to the ficlet series "Dr. Watson's Hands."


End file.
